***** More Time Is Less
On the diamond, I used to be
a flexible arm and astutely able.
Not so now; I am half of me.
There were many days in the past
when I could play all the day.
Now, sadly, I’m caught at half mast.
Just a little of me is ready now
for competitive foray and tell.
I wonder all the while, “How?”
Golf balls I used to send nicely low.
These days, they miss the whole green.
They disappear, flying anywhere as they go.
A basketball was cause to spend
a moonlit night shooting long.
How is it now I can barely bend?
Lend me legs, a brand new fancy pair,
I say, and watch me happily go.
Timeouts will be forgotten; I have no wear.
Tennis anyone? But can I still show?
Can I play one set and last?
Old Father Time will ruin my flow.
Nature is a demanding master
as she bedevils our norm.
She reverses us to a slow disaster.
Poem and Photos from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg